David Thayer

Wellington Leg: Perhaps in recognition of his versatility it appears the Obama camp is considering naming the forty third earl as ambassador to the Indian Ocean. Clues abound as the earl, who vanished from public view during an electrical storm, recently rode through towne in ox cart disguised as a decurion from the Valeria Victrix; regular readers know by now that when he travels in mufti the earl is gathering intelligence for Herself, the Dowager Princess. “We like to think that the new administration might name him poet laureate,” said Professor Moriarity. “Failing that, there are numerous atolls in the Indian Ocean whose literary tradition could upgraded through massive federal intervention.”

When You’re the Only Game in Town: a case in point is the earl’s recent success on Succotash Island, a windswept isle of fearsome dimensions once claimed by Portugal. “There was suffering on Succotash,” the professor said. “After the population fled, the earl arrived and began work on his masterpiece Flailing Palms.” By exploiting otherwise idle emperor penguins, creatures whose keyboarding skills are quite remarkable, the four thousand page tome was completed in time for the Republican convention.

Paying the Penguins: At first it appeared that the frozen credit markets had fallen into the ice flow but the earl recognized the penguins in his employ were busier than he’d thought. “They go down to the shore and dive. Then they rush back onto shore,” Moriarty said. “They take a twenty minute break and then do it all over again.” Once the penguins understood that the earl was not a sea lion, work progressed quickly and efficiently on the manuscript.  In fact the penguins could take a dip while waiting for literary pearls to develop.

As ambassador to the Indian Ocean the earl would bob along in a raft of his own design.

Tuffy Tuffington reporting.

Wellington Leg: Rumors that the forty third earl is writing a fashion novel are circulating through the literary and hair salons on Great Jones Street once an edgy urban street now gentrified and trendy. Never one to chase literary trends the earl has often shot himself in the foot with bulging novels of dubious merit. “He is a kind of literary Yugo with four flat tires,” said an unnamed literary agent. “If he’s reinventing himself I hope he remembers that the publishing industry has a long memory and captured in that are memory are stark and frightening images of his ridiculous escapades.”

Wardrobe by Wolfe: The New Earl will sport Tom Wolfe ice cream suits accented by peach colored scarves, paisley ascots and “le chien du jour” whatever that may be. Although he will continue writing on his late model IBM compatible machine he recently bought a typewriter at a garage sale. “He is both modern and ancient with various props to remind him that success in the publishing world sometimes demands a modicum of personal humiliation.”

Typewriter falls on his foot: Urquhart Depew reports that his Remington landed on the earl’s big toe at a critical juncture in his latest “writing frenzy” after the fashion dog bit his thigh. Bleeding but still typing his ascot then became jammed in the keyboard necessitating a visit from the Geek and Neckwear Squad who also delivered a critique of his pages. Upon completing his work session the earl was struck by a framed photo of James Wood; slightly off balance after the blow he tripped over a Hall & Henshaw designer ottoman and was rushed to Fashion Hospital.

Eddie Falcon, bathed in Brylcreem and Aqua Velva moved with assurance toward her royal highness who looked smashing in her Vera Wang casual armor. When she hesitated Eddie urged his steed forward…smashing an assassination plot by poorly dressed men and Bolsheviks.

What’s Brylcreem? I wonder…Tuffy Tuffington.